Personal considerations would appear to have been no stranger to this decision, and to the vigour with which he subsequently pushed on proceedings against the princess. The very strained relations which had existed for some time past between him and the late prince were common knowledge, and his enemies had not hesitated to circulate the report that he was privy to the death of his cousin. Théodore de Bèze had just written, warning him of this atrocious calumny, and urging him to take immediate steps to refute it:
“On this point I am constrained to add, knowing what might be the consequence of sinister counsels and your own clemency and good-nature, that your enemies have even dared, with that imprudence and wickedness which is the result of despair, to spread the report that this detestable crime was instigated by you. You neither can nor ought to hesitate about this action, without making an irreparable breach in your reputation; but, on the contrary, you ought to pursue the matter to judgment and execution, so as to stop the mouths of these detestable calumniators in the sight of God and man.”[129]
After ordering the arrest of the Princesse de Condé, Henri despatched one of his gentlemen, the Sieur de Veau Limery, to the Court, with a letter for “the Queen, mother of the King, my lord,” in which he informed her that the page Belcastel, “the principal instrument of the crime,” had taken refuge in Poitiers, and begged her to give orders that search should be made for him, and that, when apprehended, he should be conducted to Saint-Jean-d’Angely, to be confronted with his accomplices. Instructions to that effect were sent to Poitiers; but nothing was ever heard of the fugitive page, who seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.
The position of the Princesse de Condé was a terrible one. It was not only at Saint-Jean-d’Angely that public opinion had pronounced against her. The more zealous Huguenots, furious at the supposed crime which had deprived them of the prince who had shared all their passions and prejudices, were loud in their demands that she should be brought to justice; while the Catholics were very hostile to the princess, on account of her abjuration and her conduct in recent events, in which she had rendered such good service to the Protestant cause. To her relatives she looked in vain for help or sympathy. The Duchesse de Thouars, who, since the affair of Taillebourg, had been on the worst possible terms with her daughter, never seems to have even thought of coming to Saint-Jean-d’Angely to inquire if she were innocent or guilty; and her absence still further prejudiced the princess’s case in the eyes of the public. The young Duc de Thouars, who, one would naturally suppose, would have been eager to champion his sister, does not appear to have moved in the matter at all. As for her husband’s relatives, the Prince de Conti and the Comte de Soissons seem to have at once made up their minds that she was guilty and did all in their power to hasten the prosecution; while the attitude of the Dowager-Princesse de Condé may be gauged from the following remarkable letter:
“Great as was the pleasure it gave me to address you as Madame la Princesse, I shall have reason to regret this name so long as you are not justified of the atrocious accusation which will cause you to lose honour and life together, if your innocence is not proved. That is what I desire intensely, since I am unable to believe that the heart of a woman so well-born and so well brought up could cherish such wickedness against the prince who had done you so much honour in wooing and espousing you. This loss is so great for all the family that the peculiar honour which I received from his father invites me to deplore it for the rest of my life. I have been among the first to demand justice of our King (Henri III.), who is neither able nor willing to refuse it. Their Majesties have declined to receive your letters, and the cardinals[130] to reply to them. I have also spoken of your story to the Queen, mother of the King, who replied that she is so much the friend of honour and virtue, and is so overwhelmed with horror at the deed of which you are accused, that she does not intend to intervene.... It is, therefore, your duty to endeavour to secure the arrest of your page, to whom, it is said, you caused a great deal of money to be given by your treasurer, and to whom one of your valets de chambre has confessed to have given the poison. This evidence makes matters very serious for you.
“It is further said that you love your page so passionately that he used to occupy your husband’s place, with so many other dreadful things that the Court is horrified; and there is no conversation now except at the expense of your reputation, which, I think, is very unfortunate for you.
“Those who have counselled you (if such is the case) have done you more harm than if they had given you the same poison. Who would ever wish to see you, holding you to be without honour and without heart? Believe that God, who threatens poisoners with having no share in the Kingdom of Heaven, will permit the truth to be known and justice to be executed. I have very humbly entreated the King, on your behalf, that the page should be arrested. His Majesty desires it and has written about it; but it is not believed that you are anxious for it. I pray God that the contrary may be the case; but, however that may be, you are at present the fable and the malediction of France, and, as I believe, of all the world, even to the barbarians, if they hear of it. But can it really be possible that you have deprived of life a prince who has so much honoured and loved you? If it is, you have no worse enemy than yourself, and have consented to the damnation of your soul. Time, which is the father of truth, will speedily enlighten us on the matter of your conduct, which, I trust, is altogether contrary to the belief which everywhere prevails.
“When I knew that you were living as an honourable princess, and were respecting such a husband, a member of so great a family, I desired to do you service, and I esteemed myself happy. But now that I see you thus accused, if your justification does not appease this widespread rumour of so iniquitous a deed, I have received too much honour from the late Monseigneur my husband to be willing that any one should surpass me in the desire to be the most cruel enemy that you have ever had, although I shall nevertheless weep for your disgrace.... And if you have been instigated to this crime, as is reported, hasten to denounce those who have given you this pernicious counsel, for the sake of your life and honour; and I shall implore God to punish the guilty and protect the innocent.
“From Paris this IX. April 1588.
“She who was formerly your mother-in-law to do you service.